When the Going Gets Ruff
by B.A. Tyler
Summary: The war is coming to an end. What does that mean for the camp dog? The final installment of Puppy Dog Tales.


**When the Going Gets Ruff **

_(Author's Note: The 5th and final story of Puppy Dog Tales. Follows "Anywhere But Here," "Yappy Easter," "Acceptance," and "A Four Legged Fourth." Thanks for reading Blake's adventures!)_

* * *

The humans all over camp were standing completely still, holding their collective breath and listening to the P.A. announcement. "Ladies and gentlemen, five minutes ago at 10:01 this morning, the truce was signed in Panmumjon. The hostilities will end 12 hours from now, at 10:00." I didn't really understand all of those words, but I definitely understood the part that came next: "The war is over!"

Oh yeah, that I got, all right. This was what the humans had been hoping and praying for ever since I'd met them. For the war to end. I wasn't entirely clear on what the war was, but I knew it caused a lot of pain and suffering, and I knew that it was the only reason these particular people were living here, in this camp.

So, it would stand to reason that if the war was ending… the people would be leaving?

They certainly were going a little crazy after the P.A. announcement, dancing around and laughing and hugging each other. I kept out of everyone's way, not wanting to get stepped on. This was too much commotion for me. Sometimes people forget that we dogs are underfoot and the next thing you know, we have injured paws or sore tails.

I was happy that the humans were happy, but almost right away, worry set in. If everyone was going to leave—and it seemed like that's what was going to happen—what would that mean for me?

* * *

I ambled over to the Swamp and nosed the door open, looking wistfully around the place. There was clothing strewn all over, empty beer cans on the floor, dirty martini glasses lying on cots. Boy, was I going to miss these guys. They were real slobs, but what did I care about that? They were nice to me, and that's all that mattered. I hopped up onto Charles's cot and turned around a few times and closed my eyes.

But I couldn't sleep. I was too worried. Soon this camp would be torn down and the people would go back to the place they called America, and what about Blake? Huh? What about me?

Charles's cot smelled really good, like his aftershave and that expensive wine he drinks. Hey, maybe I could go home with Charles! I thumped my tail, starting to get excited about this idea. He liked me, and I sure liked him—Charles was probably my favorite human in the whole camp. If you didn't know better, you might think he's a jerk who looks down on everyone, but I saw through that facade right away. He's a sheep in wolf's clothing… honest he is.

Boy, wouldn't it be great to go back to Boston with Charles? He talked about his home all the time… about his parents and his sister Honoria… they sounded like an interesting bunch. But just as I was starting to get hopeful about the idea of living with Charles and his rich family, reality suddenly set in. _You're chasing your tail with that thought, Blake, ol' boy,_ I told myself. The Winchesters lived in a fancy mansion, for dog's sake. They would never let somebody like me live inside their mansion, shedding on the furniture and tracking dirt onto the floors. I sighed. So much for that fantasy.

Well, so what. There were plenty of other folks here who liked me. Surely _somebody_ would want me to be their at-home companion… Right?

* * *

"Hey, Hawk?" B.J. asked his tentmate later that night.

"Hmm?"

B.J. looked at me where I was still stretched out on Charles's cot. "What are we gonna do about Blake?"

Yeah… what _are_ you going to do about Blake? Thank dog somebody was finally thinking about me!

I lifted my head and gave 'em the big ol' puppy-dog eyes. That always melts humans. Hawkeye titled his head as he watched me. "Good question," he said. "I'll ask Dad when I call him tomorrow, but I already know his answer. He's always said we're away from home too much to have a dog." He took a sip of his martini. "How about you? A friend for Waggle?"

I shifted my gaze to B.J., awaiting his answer. "Peg would have my head if I brought home a second dog," he said.

Aw, doggone it. This was upsetting. With a sigh, I put my head back down on my paws and shut my eyes. I couldn't listen anymore. I tuned them out and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

* * *

In my dream, I ran and ran and ran. It was like the day I'd arrived in this camp… I'd been running like mad to get away from a Korean who wanted to kill me to make some disgusting doggie dish. I'd been running for my life.

And then fate had led me here, to the 4077th. I'd found refuge and made friends. They treated me like one of their own right from the start. Inviting me to parties, making sure I was well-fed, giving me the name Blake, making this flashy collar for me to wear. I'd started out thinking I was only going to visit for a short while, then mosey on my way. After all, I'd been a lone wolf almost my entire life, and you can't teach an old dog new tricks, you know.

Except that apparently you can, because I ended up staying, settling in to the daily routine, becoming a happy camp mascot. There'd been no need to leave; I'd found my new pack.

But now, in my dream… well, I had no choice. I was running again. I was alone again.

* * *

I didn't know what was going on. It was a very chaotic day, since all of the tents were about to be torn down and the people were preparing to leave. But first they had to have a wedding ceremony for Klinger and his girl.

I sort of thought I'd get to see the wedding. These folks always invited me to their celebrations, so why would today be any different?

Except for some reason, it was. Margaret came over to me and patted my head. It looked like she had tears in her eyes. "Blake, you are _such_ a good dog. I sure am going to miss you."

Uh oh. This didn't bode well, did it? She gave me a big hug and then led me to a… wait, what was this? I'd been put into something like this once before, and I remembered I didn't like it. A dog crate.

I tried to back up and turn around and run, but Margaret was stronger, and she made me go in. I growled softly to show her I wasn't happy. She leaned over and looked me in the eye and said, "You'll be fine, Blake. Don't worry."

Hawkeye and B.J. came over then, smiling at me and waving. "Have a good trip, Blake!" B.J. said. "Maybe someday we'll come and visit you."

Visit me? Where was I going? My heart was beating fast—I was getting really scared. I let out a "Woof!" that was supposed to mean, "What's going on?" But nobody understood me. People can be so obtuse sometimes.

"Bye, Blake!" Hawkeye said with a wave. "You have a good flight, OK?"

_Flight?_ Now I was even more worried, and I clawed at the bars of my prison cell.

Hawkeye reached in to pat my nose. "Settle down," he said. "You'll be fine."

Oh bulldog! I didn't believe that for a second. They were sending me someplace scary, I could just tell.

One by one, my human friends came by the crate to tell me goodbye… Klinger and Col. Potter and the good Father and Charles. They all kept saying how they hoped to visit me someday, but nobody explained where I was going.

The next thing I knew, I was loaded onto a chopper and taken away. I saw them waving as I went into the air. I felt betrayed by my friends. It wasn't fair… I was a good dog… I deserved a happy ending. Why were they sending me away?

* * *

I slept for a long time, but I know I was on a plane for most of that time. It was dark where I was, and noisy, and it was better if I slept, because then I wasn't whimpering and worrying.

You can shut out the world by sleeping, did you ever notice?

Next thing I knew, my crate was being jostled around like crazy. My eyes flew open and I looked all around me, confused. I was no longer in a plane. In fact, I was being taken off a truck.

Some person opened up the crate and I scampered out… boy, did I need to take care of my potty needs! Trust me, that was more important than anything else at that particular moment.

But once that was done, I focused on my surroundings. Where the heck was I? There seemed to be an awful lot of green stuff… big leafy trees, a huge field. Korea had always been more brown than green, so I was pretty sure I wasn't in Korea anymore.

"Hey, Blake!" somebody yelled, and I whirled around to see who it was.

Holy collie! It was Radar! It'd been a really long time since I'd last seen him. He'd gotten a discharge from the Army and went home to Iowa after his Uncle Ed had died. It was a sad day when he left camp—he was a big dog lover and he'd taken real good care of me.

Was I going to be living with him now?

He ran to me and held out his arms, then pulled me into a hug. I licked his face and he laughed. "Welcome home, boy!" he said, and that answered all my questions right there. I wagged my tail like crazy. He waved his arm around, and my eyes followed his gesture. "This is my farm, and now it's _your_ farm too! What do you think, boy?"

A farm. Big and green and loaded with other animals. Bow wow wow! Oh, I wagged and wagged and wagged.

A fellow canine came running up to us then, and Radar patted him on the head. "And this here is Ranger, your brother. I think you two will get along just fine!"

I sniffed Ranger's butt and he sniffed mine. You might think that's crude, but it's S.O.P. for us dogs. He smelled like a good guy. "Hi there, Ranger," I told him in our doglike way that you humans don't understand. "My name is Blake."

"Hi Blake," he replied with a wag and a doggie bow. "Nice to meet you. Do you wanna play?"

Boy, did I! I let out an excited "Woof!" and took off after Ranger, into the field, running and wagging and barking up a storm.

How could I have doubted my wonderful friends back at the 4077th? They'd found me the perfect home after all. I could tell I was gonna love it here. Did I get my happy ending?

Oh howl yes!


End file.
